

Our most ambitious ever!
Amsterdam via Ijmuiden, Scheveningen, Colijnsplaat, Breskens, Oostende and
home. 345 miles rounded off by a stonking sail back from Oostende, with
Levanter being left over the horizon by the rest, (only to discover there was
some surreptitious use of iron topsail in some quarters), and not enough water
to get in the marina at the end.
In between, we had everything from force 0 to force 7, flat calms to
something more boisterous. Open seas and inland seas, canals and locks,
lovely Dutch towns, even lovelier Dutch women, (some of whom seemed determined
to ensure the pasty faced English had a good time whether they liked it or
not!).
All rounded off by rugby and bacon at breakfast.
A tale of ghost ships and fleeting glimpses, old men on bikes chased through
red light districts, long sails and sleepy watchkeepers, strange lights to the
north in the night sky, glassy seas and bikini clad dancing girls.
It could have been written by Alistair McClean (instead you have me).
Sixhaven was a squash, Amsterdam was a hoot, Scheveningen was a drag (dog do's
and dirty docks), Colijnsplaat was a delight, good food, great hosts, Dutch
liqueurs and good company.
Breskens was best forgotten, the place was fine, natives very helpful,
(pensioner even got his washing done by one), but some of privateers were less
than
friendly. Oostende had the Waterhuis and the best chicken in the
known universe, as well as free sand blasting.